this is me.

Arthur O’Shaughnessy

We are the music makers,And we are the dreamers of dreams,Wandering by lone sea-breakersAnd sitting by desolate streams;—World-losers and world-forsakers,On whom the pale moon gleams:Yet we are the movers and shakersOf the world for ever, it seems.

With wonderful deathless ditties,we build up the world’s great cities.And out of a fabulous story,we fashion an empire’s glory.One man, with a dream, at pleasureshall go forth and conquer a crown.And three, with a new song’s measurecan trample an empire down.

We, in the ages lying,in the buried past of the Earth,built Nineveh with our sighingand Babel itself with our mirth.And o’erthrew them with prophesyingto the old of the New World’s worth.For each age is a dream that is dying,or one that is coming to birth.